


It Happens When Heros Are Bored

by ThanksALatte_tripleshot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Darcy is a Game Master, Darcy makes everyone D&D characters whether they like it or not, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Everyone Is Alive, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, I feel like we deserve peace and happiness, Literally they get bored and play D&D, Loki & Peter Parker Friendship, Loki and Thor were both banished to earth, Marvel Cameos, Nerdiness, No Angst, Nothing terrible happened, Pokemon GO References, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Role-Playing Game, Sassy Peter, Stark Tower, Thanos shall not be mentioned, The Avengers Are Good Bros, The plot is everyone being happy and not dead, Thor can't roll high to save his life, Tony adopted everyone, We are happy here, everyone lives in stark tower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-08 01:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThanksALatte_tripleshot/pseuds/ThanksALatte_tripleshot
Summary: Clint ruffled Peter's hair, "Fine,  but if this leads you down the path of failure,  don't blame me!""No indeed!" Loki piped up, "You should place that blame with Ms. Lewis."Darcy shifted her voice into something dramatic, "Rocks fall, everyone dies!"Peter and Loki each shot to their feet, hands extended in a gesture of supplication, "No, no, no!"Darcy shined her nails on her jacket, flipping her long, dark hair out dramatically, "Ah, yes, real power!"





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not intended to be deep and serious! Don't read it for angst because I didn't write it for anything but for us fans crushed by Infinity Wars that want to pretend nothing bad happened EVER!
> 
> So I literally got rid of all the problems with a *snap* (oh, no, too soon!!!!)
> 
> Thor and Loki never battled, they all got banished to Midgard together; Thor, Loki and the warriors. THIS Loki never fell from the bridge, never met Thanos, never attacked NY. None of it!!!!! They were in New Mexico, after a long time Thor got his hammer back, they became Avengers for other reasons, Tony let's everyone live in the tower. EVERYONE IS HAPPY!
> 
> THEY PLAY D&D WHEN THEY ARE BORED!

_Though the sun had not fully set over the horizon it had been considerably overcast throughout the day.  The horizon had been gray consistently enough it was hard to tell when it began encroaching on inky blue._

_For the most part, the setting was dreary, if very typical for the area._   _The diverse crowd; Elves, Humans, or Tiefling alike; were essentially subdued, if not calm in general as the fountain of heavy drinkers were not yet overflowing from the scattered taverns through the town._

_A spindly Half-Elf, no taller than the humans, stood in the epicenter, letting the crowd wash by him as he surveyed the general surroundings. No one particularly noticed him as his mage robes were inexpensive, threadbare in some spots, and clearly functional rather than remotely expensive; the quarterstaff and lack of spell book tucked under an arm was telling enough about him anyway; pegging him as too common among even sorcerers._

_He needed to gather a party, one that would hopefully follow his lead and not stab him in the back for a further share of gold once the job was finished. A few large, beefy, easily expendable meat shields would not go amiss on his list of potential party members. A healer, too, was a must as he was not exactly extraordinary in size or general resilience._

_Though there were multiple taverns to be found, Pretark's eye was drawn to one in particular; not because it was a fine and well-kept building likely to serve equally fine clients... no, the wood was highly weathered, the windows were cracked, the stairs were crooked, and there was someone unconscious off to the side of the first step._

_What actually caught his attention was the sign. It was a simple invitation in common, however, the words were spelled out in glass jars containing fireflies that lit up the invitation in the waning light._

_With nothing but a good feeling to prompt him, he stepped onto the creaky steps and proceeded to enter_ -

* * *

"I can't believe you guys are letting Darcy DM again!" Clint shut the fridge, the suction taking instant hold once the seal connected.

He turned to regard the three sitting at the big table with their bags of dice and a blocky map spread out over the surface with the sort of incredulous shock others might offer a person willingly stepping in front of a firing squad. None of them were in their usual hero attire, no leather, metal, or spandex to be found. They were in hoodies and typical casual wear, aside from Loki; the Trickster god still managed to look like he stepped out of a Vogue magazine for business casual, which either meant he stole it all or he swiped Stark's bank account at some point. Well, Darcy was also in her normal clothing considering she did not have a hero alter ego to start with.

Darcy offered a look of such great offense lesser mortals than Barton might have either withered under or retracted the statement. "I'll throw my big, heavy, hardcover book at you if you're not good!"

Peter grinned sheepishly and shrugged one shoulder, "She promised not to horrifically maim, mutilate, or mind control our characters this time..." He rolled a D20 over his knuckles like it was a coin.

Darcy shot the archer an unimpressed, defiant look but he ignored it when he rolled his eyes with a groan. "Oh, sure! She's totally not going to do it again!"

Loki delicately settled his green leather bag of dice onto the table, "She could hardly inflict more suffering on us than she did before." The words rolled off his tongue with his usual sassy tone of indifferent, judgmental, superiority.

He was overly posh and cocky for a homeless alien prince banished with his big blond prince brother and their four companions after daddy Allfather got mad at them for almost starting a war with Frost Giants. Thor started out cocky but he calmed down after he got beaten into the mud by a bunch of computer stealing government agents and couldn't get his hammer back for eleven months. Loki still acted like he should be treated like a prince, but then, he hadn't been fool enough to go with Thor in a storm to get beaten into the mud, so that might be why.

Clint still was not convinced in any way, clearly having elected himself to save the other two from a fatal error, "Last time we not only unknowingly were working for the big, bad, ultimate evil, we also accidentally murdered the good guy-our adoptive father's-oldest son to give the glowy chest to the guy we didn't know was the evil overlord! Because she gave us all amnesia at the start of our first campaign!" Clint waved the unopened can of soda wildly for emphasis, most likely shaking it up enough that they would all be dodging the second he opened it. "But you, kid," he pointed the can at Peter, "should be most worried of all! You're the one she mind controlled with the evil jello!"

Darcy very nearly shot to her feet,  waving her arms wildly, "Hey,  no way!  I'll give you working for ultimate evil; even if you really shouldn't have just taken the word of some creepy dude in a white suit,  with all white furniture - everyone knows you can't trust someone with all black and white furniture- but I will give you that. But the mind control and everything that happened to his character because of it,  it wasn't my fault! It was his own fault he got mind controlled! He LICKED THE JELLO! Who licks an ominous,  gelatinous, moving substance they find in a dungeon?! I still say you can't hold me responsible for that!"

"You said it looked like jello!" Peter pointed out instantly, "What else are you supposed to do with jello besides finding out what kind it is?!"

"We were less than fifteen minutes into the game!" Clint countered, still not finished making his point, "No one expects to meet the ultimate boss first thing in the game! You expect to beat a bunch of little monsters before you ever even hear about your future boss battle! You don't expect him to be the first guy you meet offering you a job after you wake up at his house with no memory!"

Darcy smacked her book on the table indignantly, "And you didn't think waking up with no memory in a creepy house with a dungeon, a water dragon, and sentient jello was foreshadowing or telling about his general affinity?"

"We had amnesia! How were we supposed to know?" Clint motioned frantically with the soda again,  making the other three cringe internally, "He said he saved us,  we didn't have a reason to think the first guy in the game was the main world evil! We didn't know how evil you were yet!"

"He does make a very valid point." Loki purred,  dumping his dice onto the table top, "It was extraordinarily evil of you."

Peter made a calming motion with both hands, "Hey,  let's give the lady a chance! Loki and I decided to risk it so we'll see how this goes!"

Loki shrugged and leaned languidly back in his chair, "We are bored so what can it hurt? She can only torture and mentally scar us beyond the endurance of typical mortals." He smirked gleefully,  entirely too smug, "Fortunately, I  am not mortal."

"Big talk for a homeless prince Stark took in out of New Mexico." Clint sneered. 

For whatever reason,  the two had been mild rivals since they first met,  even if the rivalry was nothing bigger than which of them got the last donuts.

Loki arched a single brow, "Of course,  but remind me... why are you here then? Eating out of his cold food receptacle and sleeping in a guest room after your flight?"

"Are we going to play or not?" Darcy folded her arms petulantly over her chest, "You two are the ones that asked to play because you were dying of boredom and rushed to make characters when I said we could."

"By all means," Loki pretended to bow toward her, "I believe you had the good Peter Parker's Half-Elf sorcerer entering the charming culinary abomination."

"Right!" Peter shifted to the edge of his seat,  tossing his dice between his hands, "I'm ready! I'm prepared for anything! Let's do this!"

"Might I suggest not licking anything this time?" Loki offered sweetly,  green eyes twinkling mischievously.

"That was one time!" Peter protested instantly. 

* * *

_With nothing but a good feeling to prompt him, he stepped onto the creaky steps, avoiding the unconscious man,  and proceeded to enter the tavern.  The smell of smoke, ethanol,  body odor and bubbles accosted him even before the sheer volume._

_It might not have been dark out but the number of patrons was considerably large all the same,  many of those lining the bar and huddled at tables were diligently attempting to become fully inebriated by the time the sun actually set._

_The young sorcerer took his time,  surveying the options he was presented with.  He wanted to pick a decent group,  ones of strength,  skill,  and again,  those not inclined to try to kill him at any point during the trip.  Dying at the hand of a teammate,  or an enemy,  was to be avoided._

* * *

"Do a perception roll," Darcy announced. 

Peter fumbled quickly,  searching his sheet for the skill before he shook his dice in his palm. The instrument of fate clacked loudly against the table as it rolled it's determining verdict on Pretark's ability to find anyone at all in the room that could be useful, "Fifteen!" He announced proudly. 

"Congratulations." Loki grinned, "You might be able to compile a party."

Darcy nodded and leaned back in her chair like a queen on her throne,  already getting into her mind space for DM, "That works."

* * *

_The first promising individual he noticed for his size alone.  Pretark judged him to be a Tiefling, though,  with some of his attributes,  he could have been in possession of some Genasi blood. If he had time later on,  he might seek to learn,  study on that potential.  Later. He was leathery skinned, terracotta toned, modestly long golden waves of hair, with 's' curved horns atop his head. He had muscles enough for ten people, a barrel chest,  and ample height, a perfect specimen as a shield if ever there was one._

_At first glance, Pretark wondered if he was a Barbarian, but a moment of study over his interaction with his fellow patrons left the impression that he was less a mindless rager, but more likely a Fighter, possibly a Champion._

_At his side,  seemingly a companion,  was a smaller man, clearly also a Tiefling. He was considerably smaller, lithe, almost more dangerous to look at with his raven hair,  long pointed ears,  high backward arching horns, sapphire skin,  and lashing spear tail._

_The manner of weapons hidden and only displayed on his person in addition to his athletic, slim appearance suggested a Rogue._

_They seemed like a perfectly acceptable starting-_

* * *

"If I may," Loki held up an elegant finger,  eyeing Darcy with intense suspicion, "I fear to ask,  but, did you,  by chance,  just insert Thor into this?"

 "You guys need muscle!" Darcy waved her thick book at him, "It's a perfectly good set of muscle since Peter wanted to be a  Wild Magic Sorcerer and you wanted to be..." She paused,  hesitating over it for some reason, "An Arcane Trickster Rogue. Those are both,  you realize,  cool and all,  but highly squishy! Monsters will look at you and reach for ketchup!"

"That's... insulting but kind of true." Peter drummed his fingers on the table,  smiling and shaking his head. "We do need some good muscle, you have to admit!"

Loki sighed his most put upon sigh of all, "And Thor was the best option for muscle you could conjure?" He waved his hand to dismiss whatever Darcy opened her mouth to say, "Regardless, I still don't see why you made our dear, youth, Mr. Parker the campaign leader rather than... someone who might actually have seen battle and know how to be strategic."

Darcy leveled Loki with a calm look before it slid into a sly smirk, "Because he's nicer than you are so he gets more perks.  You have to pay homage to get perks,  dude! Everyone knows that."

Clint snickered vindictively from a few feet away,  still mopping soda off the couch with paper towels. Fortunately, he'd moved to the couch before he opened that ticking bomb so none of them were forced to dodge,  they could enjoy the spectacle from safety. 

Loki rolled his eyes dramatically, but pasted on a genial look a second later, "In that case,  may I interest you in a beverage,  Ms. Lewis? A soda,  perhaps?"

Peter devolved into a hopeless fit of laughter. 

* * *

_The Half-Elf eased himself in through the crowd,  making his way to the pair . The Rogue noticed him long before he was particularly close but that was far from unexpected._

_While never one for speeches or making friends in general, Pretark was perfectly aware he could not actually do a great deal without a party so he would have to put forth the effort.  He studied a few books about edicate and general guides on what to do in social situations,  he should be fine.  While he had been sent away from normal village life at a relatively early age in order to learn "Proper magic" he was far from clueless on social things._

_"Hello there,  friend! Buy you another round?" He addressed that mainly to the bigger one as he seemed the easier to get close to of the pair._

_The big,  muscular individual eyed him up and down with a wide,  hearty smile full of teeth and said-_

* * *

"Hey!" Clint shoved Peter in the shoulder, "You're too young to drink! Even theoretically!"

Peter's shoulders sagged and he threw his head back, "It's called a game! Everything is theoretical. Besides,  everyone knows you offer the big guy at a bar a free drink to get him on your side! Every movie in history that starts in a bar,  or western for that matter,  go about it that way!" As a high schooler,  he was prone to dramatic answers in regards to his age,  but that was essentially mild. 

Clint ruffled Peter's hair on his way to dispose of the paper towels, "Fine,  but if this leads you down the path of failure,  don't blame me!"

"No indeed!" Loki piped up, "Clearly, you should place that blame with Ms. Lewis."

Darcy narrowed her eyes at them, shifting her voice into something ominous and dramatic, "Suddenly! From out of nowhere, rocks fall and crush everyone in the tavern! Everyone dies!"

Peter and Loki each shot to their feet, hands extended in a gesture of supplication, "No, no, no! We'll be good! We'll be good!"

Darcy shined her nails on her jacket, flipping her long, dark hair out dramatically, "Ah, yes, real power!"

"You guys should have listened to me while you had a chance!" Clint warned from the kitchen, "Because I think it's already too late to save either of you. Get ready for mind control and mental torment! Just get ready now so you might be prepared."

"Hey, Loki," Darcy whispered, "can you-" she wigged her fingers-"do your thing and explode his next soda too?"

Loki might never have offered a more feral grin before, "With pleasure!"


	2. Chapter 2

As _a Half-Elf, he theoretically had some charisma in his blood somewhere, aside from the human portion. He had high charisma, just not in any sort of social setting, at all, so there was that. While never one for speeches or making friends in general, Pretark was perfectly aware he could not actually do a great deal without a party so he would have to put forth an effort. Socializing was awkward and difficult but he imagined it would get easier after he got past to initialization. A party of necessary individuals could be tolerated to further his studies and goals._

_There was much he intended to accomplish; for that, he needed a great many more books; for that, he needed a significantly higher level of income and a few connections would not go amiss. He needed to network enough to get along at least, therefore, quests it would be. A sorcerer was not necessarily social by nature but few people got along in the world without a few alliances._

_He studied a few books about edicate and general guides on what to do in social situations, he should be fine, even navigating other cultures.  While he had been sent away from normal village life at a relatively early age in order to learn "Proper magic" he was far from clueless on social things.  Hopefully, anyway, since he would not be going back to to the school as they deemed his ideas on magic and acceptance of his wild magic too "dangerous." Weaklings, he would say, but it was what it was._

_"Hello there, friend! Buy you another round?" He addressed that mainly to the bigger one as he seemed the easier to get close to of the pare._

_The big, muscular individual eyed him up and down with a wide, hearty smile full of teeth and said, "Well, so long as you're offering, who am I to refuse such generosity?"_

_The Rogue turned dark eyes upward as if to ask a deity for strength. It seemed he already had a vague idea where this encounter was about to lead; he either had skill for prediction or this was far from the first time anyone had approached them because of his companion's size and appearance. It was likely from experience._

_The big man tapped the deep indent on his granite looking chin,  eyeing the sorcerer with keen interest, though the interest waned once a tankard slammed roughly on the counter before him. He took a hearty chug before asking, "So, my young friend, what is your name and why have you come here? I assume you are a traveler?"_

_Around the man, this close, there was an odd scent of charge to the air, which made Pretrak even more curious about the potential Genasi blood, "I am a traveler!" He offered,  slightly too quickly judging by the arched smirk of the Rogue, "My name is Pretark, and I am in search of companions to join me on a quest rich with possibilities and profit!"_

_That was probably too eager again considering the way the Rogue covered his mouth with one hand, his shoulders beginning to shake either from suppressed laughter or sobbing._

_"It is a job you offer then?" The hulking figure took a long drink before eyeing the Half-Elf over the rim of the glass, a twinkle of glee in his eyes, "One full of adventure, no doubt, and peril as well as abundant riches!"_

_Pretark opened his mouth to attempt to somehow sweeten the deal even though he himself did not have all the details yet, exactly, but the man continued._

_"My name is Roth, and beside you is my friend, Kloi." Roth clapped a huge, thick, heavy hand on Pretark's shoulder,  jarring him in his wobbly stool, "With promise of riches and adventure, how could we refuse to join you?"_

_"Oh, how indeed!" Kloi agreed, his voice laced with more sarcasm than most individuals were capable of exuding their entire lives. "As he has already given us such great detail about this proposed mission and a detailed list of all funds we shall receive once the job is complete.  One could hardly refuse!"_

* * *

"In my defense," Peter waggled his finger under Loki's nose, "she hasn't even told me what the job is yet! I can't really give more information to anyone than: 'a wealthy looking servant came and offered my character a job with high returns if he could put a team together by the end of the night.' So,  really,  he's not really operating on much information."

Loki scoffed, "Really, why would anyone take such a vague offer in an actual setting.  Your character would have to be quite addled in the mind to accept such an endeavor."

"Thor would accept it if I asked him in real life! He's nicer than you!" Peter defended,  plopping his dice on the table. 

"Oh, yes, of course, he would accept the offer of someone that thinks mixing letters from his first and last name make a good fictitious identity." Loki flipped his bag of dice into the air a few times. 

"Actually,  it's a pretty good method!" Darcy waved a sheet at the dark-haired Trickster. 

Loki turned up his nose, regarding her, "Indeed, as 'Roth' clearly was not in any way a reorganization of letters for Thor."

"Excuse you!" Darcy poked him in the arm, "Mr. Kloi, also spelled L.O.K.I. if alternately arranged!"

"I will have you know," Loki crossed his arms elegantly over the table, "that Kloi is a perfectly normal and respectable name where I come from."

"So is Roth!" Darcy defended smoothly before shifting the topic, "Besides,  you could never convince me Thor wouldn't accept this offer that easily.  It's Thor, and we all know him."

Peter nodded along smirking widely when Loki wrinkled his nose and grudgingly agreed that it had happened on a few occasions in the past,  much to his dismay. 

* * *

 " _One could hardly refuse!" Kloi's facetious tone was lost on Roth entirely as the man nodded with finality._

_"When shall we set away?" Roth seemed eager at the likely possibility of grand adventure and battles ahead,  possibly more than he was in the promised reward._

_"Oh,  well..." Pretark fumbled only slightly, "I will need to procure the services of a healer before we set off, of course."_

_"Fortune must be smiling on you!" Kloi imitated false cheer and encouragement, "As fate would have it, I saw three healers at the table in the corner! You couldn't possibly miss when there are three to pick from,  all assuredly eager as we for the grand adventure you promised!"_

_"That is fortuitous!" Roth agreed,  again either missing Kloi's tone or choosing to ignore it. "Go forth, young sorcerer, and convert one of them to your noble cause!"_

_"He never said it was noble, simply lucrative," Kloi muttered to the large man conspiratorially._

_"I'm sure it will turn out to be fine enough as we will be in attendance." Roth slapped a hand against the Rogue's back, shockingly without toppling him onto the floor._

_With that and an extra swig of liquid courage, Pretark slid from the creaking stool and made his way with as much confidence as possible to the indicated group of healers. They seemed reputable enough at a glance, attire typical of Clerics, robes reasonably clean and cared for. Two of them looked considerably more stiff than the third, their posture proper and ridged where the last was more languid and fluid, sprawled in his chair more than anything._

_The first man was most intimidating, possibly a High Elf of some sort; his head was bald and smooth, his dark skin was a stark contrast to his fine white robes but it was the eye patch that afforded him a more ominous aura. The woman could have been human but he doubted it; she eyed him with suspicion, her dark hair pulled back into a chignon, weapons freely adorning her belt in addition to her staff leaned up against her seat._

_The third man was obviously a Half-Elf, smarmy smile and attitude notwithstanding, he was the most likely to be sympathetic to the plight of another Half-Elf. Though, the golden eyes hinted at him being, potentially, part Aasimar. That really did not matter at the moment but he could not help analyzing everything he found even slightly notable. He was a scholar, after all._

_The stricter of the two likely would not end up being overly taken with someone who embraced wild magic but he would try for any of them. Healers were of considerable importance on any given quest in order to avoid death and permanent disfigurement._

_Swallowing a little too loudly, Pretark edged up to the table, drawing all of their attention. "Hello, good people! Would you permit me to join you?"_

_Each one of them took a moment to eye him up and down, most likely finding him lacking in a few respects, but the one with the eye patch nodded and motioned with one hand at a chair. It was promising to have been allowed to the table as none of them seemed to be drunk in any way, which was moderately what he had been banking on with his former recruitment. He might have to rely on their sympathy, in this case, to convince them to go with him in order to keep him alive._

_"Might I interest you in a job offer?" He had always been more inclined to be direct rather than abounding in social platitudes._

_The group regarded him once again with the sort of scrutiny that made him feel as if he was being peeled apart or culled over a fire. The feeling was less than comfortable but he had little choice but to endure it. He was getting the feeling the first two were in no way aligned with chaos, not even in the same city._

_This time it was the Half-Elf that spoke up, leaning his elbows onto the table as he leaned forward, "That depends. What exactly is the job?"_

_Pretark dearly wished he had a few more details, like exact numbers, "I was assigned to gather a small team together," he had decided on small mainly because he doubted he could keep a large one in line, "in order to carry out a job for a client. He is willing to pay handsomely for escorts." At least he was assuming they would be escorting someone or something. Details._

_"And the name of your employer?" The female asked coolly._

_Excellent question! Too bad he had not thought to ask the servant exactly who he was working for, that might have helped but he had been afraid to ask too many questions, "He would prefer to remain anonymous at this time, until all parties have accepted the contract. You understand."_

_She did not look overly convinced, nor did the elf with a missing eye, though he was surprisingly expressive for someone missing half his countenance._

_"He is secretive, perhaps," the sorcerer hedged quickly, "but he is willing to offer ample compensation for it."_

_Fortune must really have been smiling on the endeavor as the third man took another look, then glanced at the bar toward the spying Tieflings that were not being subtle in any respect. He drew in a breath through his nose, looked at the smaller size of the Half-Elf before him, likely estimating his chance of survival on any campaign without a healer, and sighed._

_"Sure, why not? I'm looking for work anyway." He stood up and Pretark jumped to his feet eagerly, taking the proffered hand in a quick shake of the agreement, shocked he had actually won any of them over, even through pity._

_They weaved back through the crowd slowly, and Pretark was as gleeful as if he already had a pocket full of gold to purchase books. That had been, shockingly, a success as he had procured a healer for their journey with minimal trouble. He had a party before the sun had set, as per agreement. Things could only go much better from there. What little he heard, the job should be simple and over quickly. It would be easy money!_

_"My name is Nyilas. Pleasure to meet you..."_

_"Pretark! My name is Pretark and it is a pleasure to have you!" He offered enthusiastically._

_They settled back at the bar and-_

* * *

Peter waved his hand a minute to get Darcy's attention, "Hey! Nyilas means 'archer or bowman' in Hungarian, did you know that?"

Darcy's brow furrowed and she cocked her head to one side to better regard him, "How even did you know that?"

The teen hunched his shoulders, suddenly self-conscious, "I... don't know, I just remember random stuff I hear. It's nothing special, just a random fact." He cleared his throat and shoved that conversation aside, "Though, what I really want to ask is..." he grinned, eyes almost glowing with amusement, "were those two who I think they were?"

"Oh, I think they could only be two people." Loki covered one eye with his hand, changing his accent to something more American, "Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?"

Darcy instantly followed suit, slapping a hand over her own eye as well, "Sir! I'm going to have to ask you to exit the Donut!"

Peter smacked his hand on the table, already bouncing in place, "I knew it! That was supposed to be them! They should have been in black though, but I guess they are Clerics."

"A magician,  and,  or dungeon master reveals no secrets! It is up to the mind of the audience to fill in where they might." Darcy smirked but would neither confirm or deny either way. 

She looked entirely too satisfied and too evil for Jane Foster's assistant.  When they met her she had only been interested in earning a few college credits. Now she could sup with alien royalty and superhumans without batting an eye.  Then again, the first thing she did upon encountering the god of Thunder was to shoot him with a taser, so she had never exactly seemed at a disadvantage in any crowd,  with or without her taser gun. 

Peter persisted seemingly more energized than before, "Are we going to see them again later? Tell me we are!"

Loki absently began to roll his D20 in his palm, "I can actually see them as Clerics. It sort of fits them both."

"Hey!" Peter clapped his hands and raised them above his head, "We need to get them to create characters! They could play with us!"

"Umm, no!" Darcy insisted, "Do you even know how much trouble they would be in a party? Or how intimidating he would be, glaring at me with one eye, if my monster got his health down!"

"He would no doubt threaten to fire Ms. Foster if you did not magically allow him to restore his full health."

"No,  and no!" Darcy asserted, "He is an NPC only!"

Peter leaped from his chair and offered his hand to Loki for a hi-five, which Loki reluctantly returned as the young hero crowed, "We got her to admit it! It's canon! Fury and Hill are in the game!"

Darcy rolled her eyes,  sounding instantly dramatic again, "And suddenly, the earth shook violently causing a mountain you didn't even know was beside the tavern-"

"No! No! No! I'm sorry,  I'll be good, I swear!" Peter yelled,  already standing on his chair as if to escape the fictitious landslide pending. 

Darcy shifted in her seat,  turning fully to face Loki, "Alright,  you're the new favored one since he's being obnoxious."

Loki preened in place, "Does that mean I'm the new leader?"

"No, you can't! That's too cruel! Darcy!" Peter whined,  allowing his body to wither in the chair as if he'd been mortally wounded. 

"I can assure you that I am a far superior-" Loki was cut off by Darcy waving the book at him. 

"Easy,  killer! You're not that favored yet," Darcy fluffed the collar of her jacket like feathers, "but keep trying! We'll see what we can do. You could always try bribery. Next session,  after we finish this,  you two might remember that I adore Dove chocolate and Dr. Pepper."

* * *

_With a party assembled,  it was time to report to the pre-established location to confer with the client.  Though Pretark very nearly begged for company,  the others were far more inclined to continue drinking until the last possible moment._

_"As you were the one they hired,  my young friend," Roth grinned,  protectively holding fast to his ale, "it would be wrong of us to intrude."_

_"Indeed!" Nyilas agreed, holding his own tankard with equal relish,  clearly enjoying the torment and conflict of the other Half-Elf, "We would not dream of stealing the spotlight from you as you worked so diligently to compile a worthy crew for your new benefactor."_

_When Pretark's shoulders visibly dropped a full five inches, Kloi pushed away from the bar with a long,  drawn-out sigh, "Oh, very well! I'll go with you! I don't trust you enough to send you off alone,  you might cheat us horribly."_

_The Half-Elf  shrugged noncommittally,  just pleased not to be going alone, "I can't fault you there."_

_The two of them trudged off, neither particularly finding it necessary to converse but it was companionable enough. Occasionally, Kloi would glance at the instructions and point something out.  The instructions were overly complicated to a ridiculous degree.  The writer seemed more paranoid than was strictly logical or necessary.  There was something odd in general about it really. Why would anyone go so far as to count the number of steps needed?_

* * *

"Roll for observation and perception!" Darcy announced. 

Loki and Peter jumped at her shift from story weaving into issued commands.  They fumbled with their sheets and dice with the desperation of a student looking over a textbook during an open book test worth half their grade. 

The dice clattered over the table, rolling until they settled on their numbers.  Loki was the first to announce his score, "Eighteen!" He told her proudly,  and also deeply relieved. 

Peter looked at his dice with great offense and betrayal, "Six." He muttered irritably,  grabbing the dice back like he would rather throw it. 

"Not good enough! Especially since Loki rolled so high; he is a Rogue though, so it makes sense." Darcy told him cheerfully, " You see nothing. Loki,  you,  however,  see the trap just fine! With a map that complicated,  you should have expected something."

Loki glared at her, "It's not the map we should have suspected,  it's you, Ms. Lewis."

"I'm not going to get mind controlled again am I?" Peter sounded wounded. 

* * *

_Pretark gagged as his cloak was grabbed roughly and jerked backward.  He sort of dangled from the Tiefling's hold until he gathered himself properly._

_He might have been irritated under other circumstances,  but this was no such occasion.  He could feel the heat from the fire spell still crackling where he would have been moments before. The grass was singed black and withered in the area._

_Looking around with new,  alert eyes, he noticed the abundance of traps.  It was all very well hidden. The level of spellwork and sheer number of magical traps was,  to say the least, impressive.  Many of the spells were dramatically above the sorcerer's current level or pay grade._

_He could easily surmise the employer they were about to encounter was more than slightly paranoid or he had plenty to hide. He was also either a very powerful magic user or could hire the work done for him by others. There was no doubt at all that they would need to proceed with all due caution. Hopefully their future employer made it worth risking life and limb simply to have a first meeting. They took considerably more care to follow the instructions after than, counting the steps they took to match up with the number of steps indicated on the parchment._

_Once they finally arrived at the ancient mansion, they were both considerably more wary. It looked to have existed since before even their own parents had been born and it felt almost alive, almost sentient. It was massive, owned and cared for by someone of considerable resources and likely an extensive staff. At least there was no question the man would be able to pay them._

_Whatever the case, this was sure to be an interesting evening. It was also particularly lucky the Tiefling had come along or the job would likely have died with Pretark prematurely. This earning money business was far more complicated than it should have been. Too bad no one would pay him to read books and stay in a library every day. Though, dying in pursuit of his chosen path to learning might not have been ideal but it was probably very fitting._

* * *

There was no longer a question of if the campaign would end horribly, it was a matter of time. The ax was swinging, sawing slowly at the ropes of their characters lives or sanity. Time alone would either stall the inevitable or speed along the process. When ones Dungeon Master was pure evil and gleeful about the suffering of others there was little to be done.

Peter wilted in his set, covering his face with both hands in abject horror, "You said you wouldn't do it!" He complained.

"Do what?" Darcy asked innocently.

Loki drew in an irritable breath through his nose, "Make us work for the evil overlord of the story... to the end of our characters utter ruination in later days."

Darcy threw up her hands, "Who says he's evil just because he's paranoid? Being paranoid does not mean he's evil or anything, you realize."

They both leveled her with a dry look that spoke volumes of their lack of any and all faith in her general benevolence.

"What?" She protested, "You are jumping to conclusions."

"We trusted you last time!" Peter pointed out, "And suffered!"

"Suffered horribly!" Loki agreed, "Not that I am against a good bit of cruel, malicious deception in the name of good fun... but forgive us if we seem skeptical of your overall good intentions or lack thereof."

Clint shook his head, wiping a fake tear out of his eye as he walked by, "I warned you... tried to save you from misery, but does anyone listen to the town prophet? No!"

"Soothsayers are crunchy and good with ketchup!" Darcy yelled down the hall to his retreating back. 

Clint turned on his heels to walk backward a few steps, "Behold, a dark force approaches, and its name is Darcy the Terrible!"

"Go away or I will taunt you a second time!" Darcy feigned a British accent.

Barton chuckled loudly and shouted something back that none of them actually caught. It was not relevant to their current doom and pending death so it was ignored for the time being. They were invested now though and there was no turning back. The characters would have to plunge into the great abyss of plot and terror. Stories of Darcy's creation were not for the faint of heart, not even if she promised to be nice.

"I'm going to end up mind controlled again, aren't I?" Peter cast a forlorn look at Loki.

Loki offered a congenial smile, "Perhaps not. You might not live that long... or she might invent some new, far more horrifying method of torment."

Perter groaned and slouched down in his chair with an air of finality, "Bring it on."

"You are not falling over a waterfall and there are no sharp rocks at the bottom, if that helps." Darcy assured him.

Loki's brow crinkled in confusion, "What?"

"Emperor's New Groove." Peter informed him, as if that would in any way clarify what he was referring to as Loki had not been dragged along to watch that movie when Darcy was bored the last time. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Gray stone pillars with ivy tangled round them supported a heavy balcony one would not desire to be standing underneath in an attack.  Though several windows were glowing from within like eyes of a monster,  much outside of the porch area seemed drastically darker than it had when they were farther away._

_A carved jade dragon and lion stood sentry at either side of the huge wooden door, seemingly ready to spring on intruders at the slightest provocation,  stone or not. The wind whistled and moaned through the eaves,  swaying the trees and shrubbery in a slow dance.  Though the trees were not overgrown, they still seemed to loom over the house like curious, giant neighbors waiting to watch the spectacle of the visitors falling through some trap door to their deaths._

_They would be lying if either of them said they had not checked the steps for traps before climbing up._

_The big brass knocker was almost ridiculously heavy and entirely, utterly too loud and made them both cringe in turn at the metallic reverberation inside their heads. Regardless,  the instructions said to knock three times, pause,  then once more.  As not following directions once had almost caused Pretark's incineration,  he was careful to do as he was told._

_Even so,  the Half-Elf and Tiefling took a large step back from the door afterward just to be safe._

_After a nerve-wracking wait,  the door swung open suddenly with surprisingly no harsh squeaking of hinges as they had been expecting. Pretark was greeted by a decidedly unfamiliar face,  but that was to be expected,  it probably would have been more shocking had it been the man that essentially hired him by proxy._

_"Do come in.  We were expecting you." He stated without much inflection or surprise as if strange visitors were in the habit of stopping by regularly._

_He did not really even pause long enough for either of them to offer a greeting as if he had been in the middle of something else and had taken time away only to let them in and be done with it._

_This man looked somewhat hawk-like,  face a bit long and thin. He exuded a sense of diligence, reliability,  and decided sensibility.  He was exactly the sort one might find caring for an exorbitantly wealthy household._

_He lead them down a very long hallway,  not even glancing back to be sure they were following and not stealing any of the expensive looking items decorating almost every single portion of space.  The farther in they went,  the more there was to see,  as if the wall hangings, shields, swords,  glittering shrapnel, crystals,  and the like were what they considered wallpaper._

_Kloi's steps hitched multiple times,  his hands twitching with what anyone in their right mind could tell was the urge to slip something discreetly under a cloak.  Walking by a few things seemed to nearly have him in tears as he knew perfectly well he could not touch anything or he would likely be horribly murdered before he left the house._

_Truthfully,  Pretark was equally as tempted to make the attempt but it was the exact same feeling of not making it back out alive that prevented him from reaching or looking long at anything.  He did his very best to avoid touching or looking to minimize the desire to steal anything. Besides,  in a house such as this,  some of the items might be cursed._

* * *

Loki slouched petulantly in his chair,  arms crossed over his chest like a two-year-old denied a cookie after dinner.  His green eyes were fixed on Darcy with such venom that Peter instinctively scooted his chair over slightly to gain discreet distance.  Loki was not,  per se,  actually one of the hero crowd.  He was more of a free agent,  helping them when he saw fit,  making life harder when he didn't.  Peter would not put it past him to fling some actual, real life D&D spells around for spite. 

It said a lot about Darcy that she only smirked,  staring him down as a victor, "I can't believe you rolled that high to resist temptation!" She told him, "though you know that means you'll probably roll a four when you need it in battle."

"I can't believe..." Loki paused to collect himself, "I can't believe you would inform me the Ring of Invisibility, the Rod of Lordly Might,  the Staff of the Magi, and Vorpal sword - all Legendary items - are simply in this man's hallways on display! Do you know what my character could do with those?"

She grinned maliciously, "And you wonder why I made Peter party leader? His character knew not to look too close so he wouldn't be tempted."

"You are truly evil!" Loki declared irrefutably.

"But you already knew that." Darcy purred,  more than pleased with her own dastardly deeds. 

"So... we're in a vampire castle now aren't we?" Peter asked,  seeking to derail the conflict, simply glad that his character had been actively avoiding examining his surroundings. 

Darcy shifted her attention from the pouting alien to the spider boy, "Why do you think it's vampires?"

Peter arched his brows in a challenge, "The last overlord was a vampire Methuselah or something."

Darcy giggled wickedly, "Then what makes you think I'll do that again? You'd be expecting it!"

"That's not encouraging." Peter groused. 

* * *

_The house had a spooky feel even with all surfaces dust free and no cobwebs in the chandeliers. There almost seemed to be a breeze still swirling through the hall even after the door was long shut._

_They could see themselves on the polished floor as well as any mirror or reflection in a vase.  The long rug they walked on likely cost more than the two of them and the rest of their party would make in several months._

_Once they finally arrived in an extravagant,  though still extraordinarily cluttered office; it had to be an office since there was a desk; they were unceremoniously left abruptly alone._

_Either these people were abundantly trusting or they were simply that certain no one could steal from them.  With the level of paranoia already displayed it was safer to assume it was the latter.  Though with the sort of things this person owned,  paranoia was likely warranted and the traps were to avoid theft._

_Kloi gasped,  elbowing Pretark suddenly, "Do you see that!" He hissed,  pointing frantically at something on the wall, "That is the Bronze Horn of Valhall-"_

_"Don't look at anything!" Pretark whispered urgently._

_Kloi looked ready to explode as he pointed at something else, "But that's the Horseshoe of Ze-"_

_"Don't tell me!" Pretark recoiled, "Stop looking at things!"_

_"That's the Efreeti Bot-"_

_"Stop right now!" Pretark insisted._

_Kloi's eyes were wild and wide with longing, "Do you have any idea how much-"_

_Pretark grabbed the Tiefling by the shoulders and gave him a slight shake, "What I have an idea about is how very dead we will be if we try to take anything out of here.  Do you really want to die here? Half this stuff might be cursed anyway!"_

_That bit of logic seemed to penetrate the haze of greed clouding over the Rogue's typical sense of self-preservation and he nodded,  seeming to rally himself, "Of course,  yes,  you're quite correct." He very fixedly turned his eyes to the floor and left them there. "I will endeavor to follow your policy and not dwell on all the money I'm not making."_

_"It's alright,  we will make money... just working for him,  not stealing."_

_"How very lawful of you," Kloi mumbled irritably._

_Pretark gasped in indignation and spluttered, "Pardon me if I try to save your life!"_

_"You're only balancing the score as I saved you first." Kloi pulled his lips into a smile that revealed his sharp teeth._

* * *

If looks could kill there was no doubt Darcy would have been a mere pile of smoldering ash. Though, if anyone was likely to find a way to horribly murder someone with their eyes besides the obvious exceptions of laser vision, well, then it was sure to be Loki. As he himself was rather prone to general thievery, no doubt he sympathized with his character's plight in addition to seeing any number of ways she was thwarting his theoretical imaginary world domination path by not allowing him to possess all the items he already knew where present. He really should not have asked, he brought the misery on himself.

"What a good friend!" Darcy patted Peter on the shoulder, "Saving the Rogue after he rolled a seven to resist temptation until he could get a higher score."

Loki scooted his chair closer to Peter and farther from Darcy in response. 

"Isn't Pretark such a good friend, Loki,  he saved you!" Darcy persisted,  clearly poking the bear. 

"He is, " Loki agreed passively, "but I hate you."

"Aww!" Darcy jolted back in her chair, imitating betting shot in the chest, "I thought we were friends! What happened to evil comradery? What happened to 'I like her'?"

"First of all," Loki sniffed indignantly, "I said that after you rendered Thor unconscious with your electric handheld device. Second, evil comradery generally indicates two joining forces against others and not turning on each other."

Darcy chuckled and played with her dice, "Oh sure! Like there is a code, please! Evil turns on its own all the time,  it's even a tactic it's so common."

Loki offered her an arch look before turning to Peter, "As I recall,  we are both aligned as Chaotic neural."

Peter nodded,  already wary of where that line of thinking might be headed, "Right..."

"We really should team up as a united front, don't you agree?" The gleam in Loki's eye made it clear he was mostly referring to teaming up against Darcy rather than as characters,  which was decidedly not the worst plan any of them had come up with. 

"Well,  we are part of the same party,  and have an affinity for chaos... so it does make sense." He was aiming for diplomatic, not strictly conforming to anything,  but Loki grinned like they had just made a deal. 

Peter was not at all sure how he felt about that. He had a terrible feeling some sort of evil prank war was brewing and he had somehow been wrangled into the middle of it. Considering the two key players would be Darcy and Loki his Spider-sense told him he was in danger and the repercussions could be dire. He might never feel safe drinking or eating ever again. The last time there was a war, Loki magically turned everyone's drink to vinegar and Darcy baked laxative cookies. 

Come to think of it, Darcy had somehow managed to spike Agent Coulson's muffins with eucalyptus oil once as revenge for him and his crew stealing her iPod. Legend had it that the man had been unable to taste anything else for a solid week. It might have just been a story though. Thor told some pretty terrifying prank stories about Loki too though, like the one about Loki turning into a snake so he could bite Thor... because Thor apparently had a love for snakes. Well, either way, those two were dangerous and even worse if they might be fighting. Almost as dangerous as when they teamed up.

"So, umm," Peter ventured nervously, "when is our boss going to come in and give us a mission?"

* * *

_When the door swung open they were startled to find a group of five strolling into the room. They all looked wealthy, most likely lords and ladies of some area or other. Three men and two women. The first four to enter really looked relatively normal even if they exhibited a few abnormalities in one way or other. One woman, for example, had a cat draped around her neck like a living scarf. One of the men was carrying an ornate hand mirror as if he was simply that vain, which, for the rich, was not unheard of even if he was not a particularly handsome man._

_The third man was of a highly eccentric nature, eclectic in his manner of attire, to put it mildly. Social boundaries were clearly none of his concern. The large spectacles atop his wide nose were the most ordinary thing he wore.  His medallion, for one, was entirely too large and had clearly not been intended to be worn but the man was doing it anyway, forcing the issue. Wisely, neither one of them examined the item for fear they might be overcome with the urge to steal it right off him and potentially be burned at the altar if he was of a mind._

_It was a high probability that he was the owner of the house they were standing in as he looked about the same as the walls all did; cluttered and bordering on insane. His white hair was fluffy atop his head, wild even though it looked like he tried to put it in order. His hair looked a bit like he had been experimenting with some potion or other and it had exploded, permanently altering the natural flow of hair and gravity. At least his mustache was neat and trimmed,  perfectly normal looking._

* * *

Peter looked quickly over his sheet, seemingly in a state of worry,  like he was about to be handed a pop quiz. He looked at Darcy expectantly,  probably a lot like he looked at his current high school teachers when he asked questions, "Okay, so, does my character know the socially acceptable greeting for people like this?" 

She responded about the same as his high school teachers would have,  by not giving him the answer. "Do you?" Darcy shrugged one shoulder and smirked, giving him nothing of a reprieve,  no mercy, "Roll for it."

Peter snatched up his dice, shook it gently in his hand in hopes it would not betray him if he was nice with it before he let it roll, "Twelve?" He glanced up worriedly.

"Sure, that's good." Darcy nodded, leaning over the space to glancing at the other dice to be sure Loki had also rolled adequately before she continued, "Basically, you see that these people are from royal lines, probably a few removed, but they have clout. You'd know to greet them with respect and try not to offend them. Making enemies of anyone with royal connections is an obviously bad move."

"Then why," Loki simpered, "do you insist on perpetually irritating me if you have a grasp of this concept?"

Darcy waved a hand dismissively, "You don't count."

The Trickster straightened his posture, lifting his chin so he could better look down his nose at her, "And why pray tell, is that?"

"Because you're you!" She told him simply, but his confused stare made her continue, "You're one of the group, a... Bhessy, Fam, Weeble,home skillet, Brotato chip!One of us; 'you have been assimilated'! That general idea."

Loki turned bewildered eyes on Peter, "Was I just insulted in alternate earth languages?"

Peter could not help the way he burst out laughing and shaking his head, "No, dude, it was all good. She just said you're our friend and so different rules apply."

Loki blinked owlishly, "How exactly did you translate what she said into normal words?"

Darcy leaned over and playfully punched Loki's arm, "It's just how we Midgardians talk in the trendy media. Get used to it."

Loki looked moderately terrified. At least the brewing prank war was temporarily forgotten. 

* * *

_Pretark made a swift effort, upon seeing the finery of the group, to right his clothing into some fashion that made it seem less like he might have been homeless. Kloi was discreetly attempting to polish his horns without actively looking like he was doing so. They tipped their heads in a partial bow of respect in order to not seem uncultured or lacking in education. It was highly likely that it did not work in the slightest as the expressions of the others remained unimpressed and highly bored. They could only dust so much dust off their clothing, at any rate._

_The most likely candidate stepped forward, eyeing them critically, peeling the layers off them with sight alone, "I take it you are here for the job?"_

_"Yes, my lord." Pretark offered, hopeful that he at least hit on a closely related honorific. No one broke out in furious protests so he assumed he hit on relatively the right title._

_The man shrugged, dislodging a golden band or rope from its former spot, though it seemed randomly draped there even before that. "I will trust Falder's judgment..." he hedged with a final sweep of them with his eyes, "I imagine he must have seen great potential." He sounded less than sure but he proceeded over to the desk in order to flap the map under his arm out and spread it with a flourish._

_Truthfully, the Half-Elf had no idea why the man picked him for the job unless he had simply looked desperate and expendable. Hopefully, it had been for the reasons their employer said, that under the dust there was potential waiting to burst forth. He really hoped it was not that he seemed expendable as he suddenly feared._

_They moved closer when he motioned them over in between placing random weights atop the corners of the map as it refused to remain flat without considerable force._

_"What you and your party-" he paused to look them over again as well as the empty space around them -"there are more of you,  correct?"_

_"There are,  indeed,  my lord.  They elected to stay behind and ready supplies for our pending mission." Pretark offered confidently,  managing only a slight smile when Kloi shot him a look that clearly read "liar", but it was clearly approval to be found in those dark,  gleaming eyes._

_That seemed to assure their boss, "Oh,  wonderful! Very proactive of you all,  very good! It's so rare to find young people that think ahead these days!"_

_The Sorcerer and Rogue exchanged another glance wrought with amusement but said nothing._

_"Now then!" The man continued, "You are to locate a missing convoy for me! You see, I was sending some items to a friend of mine,  we met back during the Artratis conflict,  you know,  so we have been chummy ever since."_

_The two blinked at him,  utterly unaware what the conflict he mentioned had been.  They could only assume it was before their time._

_"I sent the shipment along the trail I took during the Strideway skirmish,  thinking it would be best,  you know.  Perhaps things have changed since then as we lost contact with them," he jabbed the map with his finger, "there,  right where old Tallon once found that golden medallion!"_

_They exchanged a quick glance,  trying to determine if the other had even a slight idea what the man was talking about._

_"They were transporting a trunk with a few items I came across at the castle of Cieldre."_

* * *

Peter leaned his elbows on the table,  impossibly rolling a D20 over his fingers again with his ridiculous dexterity, "Do we have any idea what on earth he's talking about? Like at all?"

"He seems a bit unbalanced and I begin to wonder if he lost the transport or if they ran away to avoid him." Loki watched the teen roll the dice,  clearly trying to puzzle out how he was managing it. 

Darcy did not bother wondering,  she knew she could never do it so she had no reason to analyze the method of impossible tasks, "Roll a knowledge check."

Peter snapped his dice in the air,  then shook it between his palms with gusto,  clearly hoping for something good, "Fifteen!"

Loki did not even bother to roll,  already having made up his mind about the sanity of their new boss. 

Darcy nodded thoughtfully,  making a so- so motion with her hand, "You recognize them as things you've heard happened.  They were mostly local battles that people not in the area would ignore.  The last one he mentioned though,  that place you recognize as being a myth, a legend,  something people tell stories about but not everyone even thinks it's true,  it's that much of a legend.  People in the area have ghost stories about it."

Loki cocked his head thoughtfully, "So either this man is insane and believes he's done great things,  things of legend..."

"Or he actually is a legend." Peter nodded,  drumming his fingers on his knee, "Though,  unless he inherited all this stuff... maybe he really was just that good back in the day."

"In his prime." Loki added, "So perhaps we cannot discount him." Clearly, he'd just changed his mind. "Interesting!"

* * *

_"If I may," Pretark ventured, "what was in the trunk?"_

_The older man dithered, "Oh,  well,  various items.  Things I wanted to give my friend, you see.  The trunk is enchanted though," he turned serious and slightly haughty, "no one but he or I can open it." He waved away the topic, "Anyway,  clearly they were ambushed or fell prey to some manner of accident."_

_Obviously they were not going to be told what was inside as he blatantly dodged the question.  It was his business what he sent to friends.  If it was as valuable and many of the things in the house,  no wonder someone tried to steal it._

_"What would you have us do?" Kloi asked respectfully._

_"I would have you retrieve it,  along with the party,  if possible and they are alive." He traced a line over the path he clearly intended them to take. "Then deliver it to my friend at his home. You can find him in the..."_

_Both the Sorcerer and Rogue were rightly confused by the time he finished his long-winded descriptor of how to get there based on makers of "the tree Sladensa enchanted her staff under" or the rock that "Bordomir fell to his death from."_

_Eventually, Pretark asked, "Might you mark the path on a map for us to be sure we do not miss anything?"_

_"Ah,  of course,  of course!" He agreed quickly and proceeds to draw out,  with descriptions,  where they were going. "Now,  remember,  in order to collect your pay,  you must deliver the chest and then return here to assure me of its safe delivery."_

_They nodded their understanding quickly._

_"Now, as for the former escorts of the chest... is rescuing the party our secondary objective or our first?" Pretrak ventured, seeking classification and hoping for an answer they could feasibly execute._

_Their employer dithered a moment,  hesitantly saying, "Optimistically, if retrieving the party is possible,  that would be optimal .  If not,  the chest and its delivery is considerably more of a priority."_

_Kloi glanced at Pretark knowingly, the conciliatory look of mutual understanding.  That answer meant,  essentially,  not really.  The failed party was not their problem, hence their rescue was far from primary. In all likelihood,  they were dead anyway.  They would get that chest and run!_

_That done,  the elderly man folded the map,  shoved it into Pretark's arms,  and called for a servant,  instructing them to do as Jarvis said, as he already seemingly knew what was happening._

_They were not about to argue._

* * *

Peter and Loki starred at Darcy with twin looks of dismay,  mingled with amusement.  Peter considered telling her she might be sued for some copyright infringement but decided against it since Stark might find it amusing.

"Did you really just name him Jarvis?" Peter asks incredulously. "After Mr. Stark's AI?"

"Don't worry!" Darcy defended her choices instantly, "He'll be really epic!"

"I greatly doubt the validity of Jarvis being a period-accurate name choice." Loki insisted just to be contrary. 

"Look at my face," she drew an imaginary line around her head with one finger, "does it look like I care? No.  Watch yourself or the next character will be Fred or Phil!" She warned, seemingly in earnest, without a drop of shame. 

"What a horrifying development!" Loki feigned dismay and indignation even though it was obvious he really did not care in the slightest. 

"Although, I just realized who our boss reminds me of!" Peter did a drum roll on the table with his fingers to add his usual flair to his declaration, "It's our mailman! The one who always gets Tony's name wrong!"

Loki snapped his fingers and smirked, "You're right! That's him,  the mustache and glasses give it away! I love that mailman!"

"So do Colson and Rhodes!" Darcy cackled, "Ever since the day he called Tony 'Mr. Stank!'"

* * *

_They followed the servant that came to collect them,  the same one that let them in the house,  thus they assumed he was Jarvis.  He seemed to know what to do and where he was going, so until something changed,  they would follow him._

_Somewhere along the line he clearly found the door he was after and abruptly vanished inside, again,  only assuming they would follow.  He was a very assured man,  confident that others would follow his lead.  He might have been the head of staff with the way he behaved._

_The room they found themselves in looked like the largest,  most cluttered storage room they had ever seen,  which was not the most surprising thing of the day.  Every manner of odd items from weapons, to bobbles, to clothing was moderately organized in the room.  Organized chaos, decidedly._

_Once they followed him in,  he startled them by jerking the cloaks right off their shoulders. He snatched the quarterstaff from Pretark's fingers and deftly plucks daggers and throwing knives from Kloi's person,  even ones that had not been obvious. Kloi was nearly twitching with indignation, or he was considering a hasty retreat,  one of the two._

_Jarvis held the garments by two fingers, as if he wanted the least amount of contact possible,  and tossed them into something suspiciously resembling a trash bin._

_They might have protested the act, or at least retake their things, however,  after opening a very large truck and rummaging through it like he was not the one that would have to clean the mess, he threw each of them a new cloak._

_The man's aim was also impeccable considering he did not even look up but managed to hit them both in the face with the garments simultaneously._

_Seconds later, Pretark had a new,  considerably finer staff in his had,  and Kloi looked both elated and disturbed that his weapons had all been considerably upgraded as well but also replaced exactly where the old ones had been.  This,  clearly,  was a highly skilled servant,  or an expert assassin,  one of the two.  Hopefully the former._

_A few moments later,  Jarvis mumbling and digging through the trunk, throwing bundles over his shoulder, muttering to himself about measurements,  and Kloi had a Roth sized cloak under his arm and an enormous weapon he could only really drag while Pretark had a Nyilas sized cloak and staff tucked under his._

_They had not actually told the man anything about their companions size or race,  so... they glanced at each other,  both impressed and concerned._

_What was Jarvis?_

* * *

Darcy shook her head,  gesturing wildly, "Oh,  that's not even the half of it! These things not only fit you,  but they are geared to your race and skills! They give you a plus five to defense and attacks of your specialty."

"What?" Peter yelped,  gleeful at the prospect, "On top of any of our usual bonuses for armor class and weapons?"

"Yep,  it stacks! You're welcome!" She grinned wide and pleased at her own actions.

"What about our new weapons?" Loki asked,  suddenly seeming hungry for the information. 

Darcy shifted on her seat,  again surveying them like a queen on the throne. "It's well crafted,  all of them,  and a full grade up from what you had."

"Sweet!" Peter cheered while Loki scribbled out the new information on his sheet. "And we haven't even done the job yet!"

"I retract my previous statement,  you are a wonderful,  generous DM." Loki crooned.

"Oh, but we're not done!" Darcy informed them. 

* * *

_The strange little man continued digging about on the shelves,  tossing things over and creating extravagant disarray as he had with the trunk. He continued to talk to himself,  muttering things only he might actually understand.  Eventually, he had a stack of items in his arms and he sauntered over to them,  giving half the stack to Pretark and half to Kloi behind dusting off his hands._

_He turns, as if to do something else,  then changed his mind.  But then he reached into another trunk nearby and withdrew a decently sized bag that clinked with the telltale sound of coins._

_Jarvis tossed the bag of coins to Pretark without care, shoving additional items into their hands as he moved and wandered back out of the room with nothing but a, "I shall see you out now,  boys. Do take care along your journey,  of course."_

_They followed,  unsure what else to do. Though Kloi left the room with a few longing backward looks, likely unable to help himself from contemplating all the potential sale value in the one room alone. Pretrak only hoped the issue of it being a storage room and less likely to be under the same scrutiny and thus less likely to have a theft noticed had not crossed the Rogue's mind._

* * *

"Do we know what any of the items he just gave us even are?" Peter eyed her with mild suspicion.

"Roll for it." She answered in what was becoming her most common answer to every questing. 

After they both rolled significantly below ten she cooed, "No,  you haven't the slightest idea! Hope you figure them out eventually,  they don't come with instructions."

"Why am I not surprised?" Loki drawled with a roll of his eyes. 

"Hey,  don't complain! I gave you stuff! It's cool stuff,  once you figure it out." She shrugged, "Anyway,  we'll pause there. "I want food and Dr. Pepper."

Sam Wilson, also known as Falcon, or Captain America's 'wing man', ambled into the room, crunching a hand full of popcorn in his mouth. He glanced at them, offered a wave, and made for the couch. However, halfway there he stopped, mid step and very slowly turned back around as if he really did not actually want to know but could not resist. His eyes roved over the table and all its contents. He looked over the individual sets of dice, the telling dry erase surfaced map Darcy made two years before when they let her be a DM without understanding how intense a mistake that was. It had been two years since the map had been revealed to the light as it was said to be a call to great evil, like a summoning ritual. They all had a deep, mildly irrational fear of that map.

Sam turned his gaze on Loki and Peter, instantly seeming betrayed as it was clear enough to see that they each had character sheets, "You did not do what I think you did! Tell me I'm just tired! Tell me four days with just a few hours of sleep is the only reason I am hallucinating this!"

Loki kept his face utterly innocent and devoid of tells, "Hallucinating what?"

Darcy joined in, acting confused, "What are you talking about, Sam? Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, you look a little peaked." Loki tipped his brows into a look of concern.

Sam shook his head, backing up a few steps and pointing an accusing finger at them, "No, I can't believe it! Do you know what this is going to start?" He glanced at Peter, "And you! Have you no sense? Aren't you supposed to be a genius?" 

Loki affably pointed out, "So is Tony."

Sam's shoulders dropped a fraction and he shrugged, "Point." He shook his head then, "But you guys keep all that away from me, I'm not going to play again! Don't even think about asking! I know how this goes!"

"Of course," Loki turned on his sympathetic voice, "We all know how traumatized you and some of the others were."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the Trickster, "Shut up!"


	4. Chapter 4

Peter's foot was tapping a quick rhythm on the bar stool as he downed his glass of orange juice and twirled his spoon in his cereal. There were days he found it particularly hard to believe he was staying in a huge tower with a bunch of other heroes with amazing skills or powers like himself. A few years before he began swinging himself from buildings and being a vigilante he honestly never would have even dreamed of sitting so casually in a Stark owned building, at least not the big ones; he never even expected to work in one!

Aunt May really believed he was attending summer school, a school for gifted young minds. Stark was a better liar than Peter ever was, maybe because he was older and smoother with enough money that people assumed he was right just because he was rich. Though it was not a total lie, Peter was in a Stark run program even if it was also run by S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony also at least believed he ran it. The Stark's had been big in founding it so it was kind of right anyway.

Stark never specified what the gifts actually were, only that he had been accepted with a full scholarship.  At this point, lying still was uncomfortable, but it was old hand and maybe easier than it had the right to be. However, Happy randomly brought him school books that he was expected to read, said information from those books were routinely "randomly" and "casually" brought into conversations by Mr. Stark.

Such conversations went something like; _"That was how I discovered that useful little tidbit about magnetism, magnetic fields and the atmosphere around them to better... oh, hey, do you remember-I can't think of it- which famous document starts with 'When in the course of human events...'? It's just slipping my mind, do you remember, Peter?"_

The man had absolutely no subtlety whatsoever. He also had a horrid sense of timing for things like that. He was a great teacher, he really was, just not so much great with situational stop points on the random intervals of quizzing him. It did work though seeing as he never knew what questions the man might suddenly spring so he had no choice but to be prepared and pay attention to what he was reading for the unofficially assigned books.

There was also the particularly memorable one Iron Man brought up over the communication line during an actual battle a month ago.  _"Widow, I need you to take out the generator so the power doesn't come back on and kick up those fans while Hawkeye is in the vents or we'll have birdy stew tonight! Falcon, I need you on the left side of the building as my eyes in the sky over there! Detain anyone running out the back door, they can't be up to anything good over there. Peter! Quick, tell me which single name was applied to Holy Roman Emperor Charles the Great?"_

_"Mr. Stark, can't that wait?!" Peter squawked back in utter mortification, "I'm literally holding an elevator thirteen stories up right now! People are screaming!" But because he simply could not bring himself to disappoint the man he had, in fact, heaved out the answer as he shot another web into the pulley system, "Charlemagne, okay! I read the chapter, I swear!"_

Stretching like a cat, Peter shook his head at the refrigerator, trying to forget the way the others tried to hide their snickering over the line. Life as a teenage superhero was a challenge in more than one way and mortifying in others, particularly as everyone else was older than he was and had already been through school. Captain America was the closest one in the group to still being in school and that was just because he was trying to catch up on history since he had been encased in an ice block for an extensive amount of time. 

At least if Aunt May asked him what he learned he would have no trouble at all popping off an abundance of information to her, though he was unsure exactly what he would tell her if he asked what he spent his time doing. Saving the world and playing D&D with a human and an Asgardian was probably not the sort of answer she would be seeking there, he just had a hunch.

Speaking of D&D though, Loki ambled in, a worryingly smug smirk on his face. He looked so entirely relaxed and at peace with life that it was a sure sign he had caused some form of suffering somewhere else and was basking in the glow of his horrible plots. Any minute now someone in the tower would be screaming or storming in looking to remove the Trickster's head for whatever transgression he committed.

The last real prank that had likely nearly gotten Loki put into a jail cell had been when he swiped Coulson's Captain America cards and magically turned them all a vibrant green, replacing Captain America with random, though honestly convincing versions of himself in Cap's suit. They looked shockingly authentic, even aged correctly, perfect forgeries of the real thing. Phil had gone on such a tirade everyone else in the room had fled to safer venues but Loki had serenely and repeatedly denied seeing anything at all amiss with the collectible cards. He alluded to the Agent needing to take a day off or two to rest and recover from whatever shock he seemed to recently have. What made it worse was that the cards all magically changed back when Coulson attempted to show them to Fury.

Peter felt more dread pool in his stomach when Loki began to hum happily to himself. Very carefully, as to not attract attention, Peter slid off his stool, edging toward the sink to wash out his bowl and glass so that he could tactfully retreat before everything went down.

"Loki!" There was a loud yell.

Peter shriveled into the farthest corner of the kitchen, already knowing he was trapped. Whatever the battle was, it was about to start and he was there for it whether he wanted to be or not. Though, maybe he could make like a Spider and crawl out over their heads without being noticed. That just might be his most viable option at present and it was decidedly better than being trapped amidst a prank war he had no part in.

Peter very nearly gasped when Darcy bounded into the room, though Loki did not so much as shift expressions, continuing to look utterly serene. Darcy's long waves were now a rather striking, highly noticeable emerald green rather than her brown. There was really no question at all as to how her hair might have ended up green considering green was more or less Loki's calling card for every crime he wanted to claim credit for.

"Oh," Darcy cooed, "there you are, Loki!"

Loki spread his hands to the side, not in the least contrite, "Here I am. Yes. Is there something you needed?"

Darcy smiled and pitched her voice to something entirely too sweet, a bit sickly sweet, really. "Yes, actually! My hair."

Loki seemed to ready himself for the tidal wave of insults or threats that would soon be forthcoming but they did not arrive.

"I was thinking, light, more neon green highlights. Definitely on the tips, at the very  least if not streaked through the rest a little."

Loki looked very much like a sailor out in the middle of the ocean right as the wind suddenly died down without warning to let his sails fall limp and leave him stranded, "Hmm?"

Darcy kept right on smiling in the same, unnerving, creepy twist of expression as she waved the ends of her hair in his direction, "Highlights, Loki! I need highlights. It's too one dimension now, it needs more flair!" 

Loki himself looked entirely confused and unbalanced as he stared at her, suddenly seeming just a bit skittish as the saccharine smile and attitude was clearly not at all what he expected to encounter. Seeming to contemplate his best options, he finally seemed to settle on a flick of his wrist in her direction that caused the lighter green of her request to bloom over the tips of her hair. Darcy glanced down and worked the ends of her hair between her fingers for inspection.

"Nice! You missed your calling as a salon professional, Loki!" Darcy declared.

Loki cocked a brow at her but said nothing, perhaps too irritated that she was not upset, seemed instead to be enjoying something he expected her to hate. Even so, the look in her eyes still had Peter's spider-senses on alert and Loki did not look entirely relaxed either. Darcy nearly skipped into the kitchen, seemingly content with life and Peter began to wonder if his senses were going haywire. 

"Hey, Peter!" Darcy greeted him from around an open cabinet door. "Since you're both here and we don't have anything going on again today, you guys wanna grab your dice and sheets?"

The words had barely finished leaving her lips before Loki and Peter were both hurrying for the hallways that lead to their respective rooms. They did not so much as hesitate to hurry off at her bidding, not even considering the sheer power she now held over them.  Dangerous combinations; evil Dungeon Master's and unsuspecting player's boredom. They knew better than to trust her, and yet she'd managed to make then forget the horrors she was capable of with the sweet promise of a fun new game. Sort of like she'd just trained them, conditioned their responses like Pavlov. Had she been on a different side, Darcy would have been dangerous, but then, all DMs could be dangerous as they were in the frightening habit of holding life and death in their hands. Perhaps all evil masterminds began in such a seemingly innocent manner?

Loki and  Peter were back in rather short order to find Darcy putting the remainder of some manner away and washing out the blender. A very large cup sat beside her like her prize of the day and she scooped it up before taking to her throne of doom at the dining room table. It was honestly a little surprising how she managed to have her things already spread out over the table when the two of them had not been gone overlong. Loki seemed to sense that, tilting his head just slightly as he looked her over, a sudden flame of suspicion in his eyes.

Peter, however, was still unaware of the potential danger brewing, "What did you make, Darcy?"

She glanced at her cup and gave it a little waggle, "A smake."

Peter cocked his head, "A what?"

Darcy shrugged, taking a long sip from the straw, "We didn't have quite all the ingredients for a shake or a smoothie so I improvised. I mixed the two, thus making a shake, smoothie combination. Smake. The patent is pending."

Peter snickered while Loki just continued to look unsure as he settled into his own chair.

Darcy rather theatrically set about righting her papers and books, "So, last time on Dragon Ball Z..."

Peter burst out laughing and Loki again simply arched a derisive brow, seemingly resigned to endure what he clearly guessed were inside jokes.

"You two stopped for the night back at that tavern, loot safely stored away." Darcy said, "You gave your traveling companions their new, gifted weapons from Jarvis and the new cloaks. Pretark got a new quarterstaff, Roth got a new ax,  Kloi got new daggers, and Nyilas has a new staff. Cloaks are plus five to defense and attack. The guys were understandably shocked and pleased to get cool new gear and hear the abridged version of the events. They are never going to let you two go alone for mission assignments again though, by the way." Darcy paused to shake her head with a dramatic sigh, "It's just too bad..."

Peter frowned, leaning forward in his seat with interest and no small amount of worry, "What's too bad?"

"That Kloi is probably going to die a horrible, long, slow, painful death today." Her voice turned that same sort of sickly sweet as before, "That's all."

"Devious and manipulative..." Loki rolled his eyes with a resigned huff, "but effective."

Another flick of Loki's wrist and Darcy's hair was back to normal, no green in sight, undone just that easily. Darcy looked particularly smug and wickedly triumphant as she stared down the Trickster, not even checking her hair over to be sure nothing new had been done to it. The round very obviously belonged to the DM at this point and Peter feared what might come next.

Darcy pretended to flip through her papers, "Oh, sorry, did I say Kloi was going to die? Nope, misread my notes, he should be fine."

Loki glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest to clearly show that he was annoyed but Peter would swear he saw distinct, amused, approval in the Asgardian's eyes all the same, like he was not nearly as upset as he was pretending to be. Those two were a force to be reckoned with, no doubt an evil force, and Peter wondered at his own sanity for staying willingly in the same space with them. 

* * *

_First on the agenda was acquiring a set of mounts with which to ride out and investigate with as going on foot would be more than slightly impractical and they now had a nice bag of gold. It was likely intended for traveling expenses anyway, with a clearly overestimated idea on exactly how much it cost for a small party to make a short journey. Pretark had no intentions of informing anyone of that, however, and Kloi obviously had not felt the need either. Sort of like they had not felt the need to share those extra mystery items with the other two._

_The little group made their way to one of the city stables in order to find horses to accommodate them all. Roth would need something rather large so Pretark hoped this stable had at least one Clydesdale to their signage as it was likely that a regular horse would be unable to carry him for a long period of time. The group trekked inside, greeted, as expected, by the owner, a human, by the look of him. He looked reputable enough and was shockingly clean and seemingly in possession of all his teeth, so that lent a little to his credibility._

_As Pretark was the one in possession of the money, a likely genius idea on Jarvis' part, he knew he would be the one doing the general bargaining. He had scarcely offered a proper greeting before he heard a disagreement brewing behind him._

_"Absolutely not," Kloi said sternly._

_Roth looked at him with big, pleading eyes, surprisingly convincing for someone as large and threatening as the Tiefling, "Oh, come now! How can you say that?"_

_Kloi arched a derisive brow, "Because it's a terrible idea."_

_Roth ran his clawed fingers through the Shetland pony's blond main, "But he is magnificent! He is a noble young creature with great heart, I can see it! Those are the eyes of a warrior."_

_Kloi seemed to be holding back a mighty sigh, "While that may be true, his great heart is in a small package. This horse is intended for... significantly smaller riders than yourself who can in no way manage a full-sized horse, Roth." At the sudden shift in Roth's posture that indicated a coming argument, Kloi visibly shifted his own stance, something entirely cunning entering his eyes, "Would you deprive this fine horse the opportunity to aide those poor, dwarf travelers on their own noble adventures? I did not think you so uncaring..."_

_Roth's shoulders slumped, an undeniably guilty look sweeping his features, "No, no, you are right. Of course... ours is not the only quest, the only adventure to be found in this world."_

_Kloi nodded emphatically, "Of course not, he will have many fine chances to aid those that are in need of his help. We must not think so highly of our own endeavors as to assume no others are worthy of grand adventure." Kloi slapped a hand against the big man's shoulder, directing him away from the tiny horse, "Let us seek a fitting creature that will better accommodate your size, shall we? You would not wish to deprive the smaller travelers from the horse they need. After all, can you imagine some poor dwarf trying to climb atop..." He pointed to the largest horse in the group of stalls, "That horse?"_

* * *

"You guys are so mean!" Peter wheezed around his laughter, "Thor is not that bad!"

Loki offered a melodramatic shake of his head, "You have no idea!"

Darcy waved both hands frantically to be sure she would catch their attention, "No, no! In New Mexico, Thor went to a pet shop and tried to buy a large dog to use as a horse! I'm telling you, this is totally something he would do! And he'd also totally name his horse Mew-Mew."

"Mjölnir." Loki corrected her, per usual, with a long-suffering sigh of one that was beginning to resign himself to the fact that she would never say Asgardian words correctly no matter how many times he tried to correct her.

Peter was fairly sure she said in wrong on purpose by now, just to irritate one or both of the alien princes. He was 99% certain he heard her say it correctly when talking with Coulson at one point, giving credence to his theory.

"He's getting the Clydesdale and he's naming it Mew-Mew!" Darcy declared gleefully, and this time Loki only grit his teeth. "So I have said it, and so shall it be!"

"What kind of horses are we getting?" Peter asked, working to school his smirk into something more serious, something Loki might not backhand him for considering the way the alien was eyeing him indicated he knew full well who's expense Peter's current amusement was directed at.

Darcy straightened in her seat, back in the storyteller mindset, at least partly, "Loki is getting a black horse and naming it, like, Shadowmain, or Void, or something."

Loki turned his eyes onto her and narrowed his green eyes with vexation, "Why am I not allowed to pick my own horse's name, at the very least?"

Darcy was not listening, "Peter is getting... a white one and you are naming it Shadowfax, without a doubt. Or should Nyilas have Shadowfax? No, Nyilas gets a brown one named Talon."

Loki looked like he wanted to argue but Peter knew the situation was more or less hopeless and he did not want rocks to fall on his character because he fought her over the name of his horse. "I'm assuming this bag of money is endless because you never told me how much was in it."

Darcy was drawn away from her four legged musings and shrugged noncommittally. "I'll tell you when it runs out."

Loki poked at Peter's side lightly, "Which means it's going to run out when we are stranded with no way home, or when we are captured by some odd group or other and wish to ransom ourselves out."

Peter had a bad feeling Loki was entirely right but he hoped Darcy would at least offer a little more warning than that. If not, hopefully, they only ran out at some tavern where they could manage the bill without bargaining off their limbs. With Darcy, there was absolutely no way at all to tell. The positively evil grin she offered in response to their questioning looks was in no way encouraging.

"Anyway," Darcy arched her back in a lazy stretch, "You guys get your horses and Roth is already cooing over his horse and vowing to give him carrots and sugar cubes if he's a brave, valiant steed. What do you do now?"

Peter leaned back in his chair, working himself into the mind of a leader again, "Well, we'll get some supplies for the trip, I guess, food and that sort of thing. Whatever we might need for a trip through the woods for a few nights and-"

"What trip is it that you are taking?" Thor asked as he sauntered into the room with his usual jaunty sway, his big blue, puppy eyes roving over them unsuspectingly.

He was in that ratty gray hoodie and baggy jeans again, looking unexpectedly homeless for an actual prince.  That pretty blond hair was tied back messily, adding to the hobo feel of his outfit.  It was even more striking when compared against his brother's  black business casual attire.  They almost literally looked like the personification of night and day. 

Each one of them at the table froze, hoping against all hope that he had not been there long enough to hear them make fun of him, working over the time frame in their minds as a whole to try to decide if he might have heard any of it or if they had gotten away with it. His wide, happy smile would indicate that he was entirely unaware of their previous jibes and they all took a breath as a unite, relieved. Thor was not a particularly skilled actor and if he heard anything he found offensive he would not be hiding it so well, thus they deemed themselves safe.

Thor answered his own question when he looked over the table, eyeing the dice and books, "Oh!" He exclaimed gleefully, "You are playing the Dungeons game!"

"Yes, we are." Loki drawled slowly, just slightly wary, "We were bored, you see."

Thor snatched up a chair and pulled it up between Darcy and Peter, "May I join you? I believe we have not played this in quite some time!"

"You want to play again?" Darcy asked incredulously.

Thor nodded eagerly, "Oh, yes, it was great fun the last time, as I recall! The slaying of imaginary monsters in wondrous battles of strategy."

Darcy continued to eye him suspiciously, "You're not mad at me about destroying your family castle, killing off half your ancestry, getting you trapped inside a time loop, and sent to the dark planes with your sister trapped inside an ancient gem?"

Thor shook his head affably, "Of course not!"

"What about the sister gem getting smashed thing?" Darcy persisted.

That got her a mild frown, "Well, at the time I found it rather upsetting... but you know, in the real world I do not have a sister, thus I am able to set that incident aside."

"You were... pretty upset at the time. Plus, right after that you lost an eye and had it forcefully replaced with the dark jewel of Ramses so your greatest enemy could always track you and see through your eyes." Peter put in rather unhelpfully.

Thor simply chuckled, "Admittedly, in the moment, I was rather put out about the ordeal. However, in my defense, it was also the first time I had ever played your game and the roles of playing were a new experience. I became invested in the outcome of my character. I also..." he huffed petulantly, "was not used to the dice and their uncanny ability to thwart all my attempts to overcome the situation."

"He means he is not accustomed to losing a battle and his pride was wounded." Loki offered congenially, ignoring the glare his brother sent him.

Darcy took a deep breath and seemed to consider her options, "Alright, fine, you can play, if you really think you can handle it if something bad happens to your character."

"I shall be more than prepared this time, Darcy Lewis, I assure you!" He offered cheerily, his usual golden retriever smile in place.

"No shunning me for a week this time!" Darcy waved a finger at him accusingly.

"Of course not! And I did not shun you, I simply asked Jane to answer for me when you addressed me rather than-"

"That's what shunning is, Thor." Peter patted his thick shoulder with a few hard slaps he learned were most typical for Thor.

Thor deflated slightly, seeming guilty, "I vow not to do this again. It was petulant behavior on my part. I am prepared mentally for the fictitious battles and struggles now, however."

"But! There is a but! You have to use a character I already made," she informed him, "because I've already got him in the party anyway and that would leave me with one less NPC to roll for."

Darcy dug through her papers and fished out, unsurprisingly, Roth's sheet. Thor seemed perfectly satisfied with that option and offered not even a sign of protest. Clearly, he also was rather bored at present and thus he was more than happy to begin participation in a fake quest in lieu of a real one. Boredom was such a grand motivator when it came to their suddenly forgetting the evil, evil things that a DM had done to the party in the past. In Thor's defense though, it had been upsetting to even listen to and not have it happening to their own character.  

Darcy had a rather large amount of dice and was only too happy to share one of her many sets with Thor until he could procure his old set from Jane's laboratory locker. Apparently, Jane had sworn never to allow Thor to play again as he became overly invested in a quest but Jane would have forgotten about all that by now, maybe. At the very least, he could keep using Darcy's and not tell Jane anything about playing the game again. At least, theoretically, if he could manage to keep the secret from her rather than simply confessing. He was no Loki, that was for sure. 

* * *

 T _he surrounding forest was calm and quiet, nothing indicating there had been anything at all amiss that could have recently occurred to any travelers. The road was not exactly well used but it had seen some small amount of traffic at a regular enough period that nothing had become overgrown. The dirt of the road had not been overtaken with grass or weeds and thus it was simple to follow along._

 _The birds were not exactly singing to the sky above but they were a constant bit of tittering and flapping within the cover of the trees. There were few signs of travel and decidedly not much to indicate a party had been attacked. It was clear a large group had passed but there was no sign, at least not yet, of what could have befallen them on their way._   _Their new mounts plodded along, seemingly calm and unperturbed by the surroundings, not sensing danger or shying away from anything in the distance. For the moment, all was well._

_Glancing at his companions, noting their relaxed postures and general peace of mind, Pretark decided to take out one of the items gifted to them by their employer and see if he could discern what it could possibly do as he could only guess it actually was more than a round, clear orb. Surely there was a purpose as he could hardly imagine anyone sending them out with a large, useless marble to simply add weight to the bag._

_A glance told him Roth and Nyilas were preoccupied and thus he was safe to contemplate his loot for a moment. It gleamed prettily up at him, clear but interestingly alluring. It fit rather nicely in his hand, not too large but not small either. It was solid, seemingly glass but it did not feel like glass, lacking the same weight a glass ball would have. He could feel coiled magic rolling lazily within, just under the surface as if it were simply waiting patiently to be unlocked. What might happen if he unlocked it though, that was the real question. It did not feel dark, simply drifting, unperturbed within its confines, but would that change if the Half-Elf figured out how to open it up?_

_He desperately needed to know regardless of what the consequences might end up being._   _By nature, he was curious, enough so that he was happy enough to risk life and limb if it meant he would uncover answers to his questions. It was his curiosity that had often caused him to be labeled dangerous. The consequences were not unknown to him, of course, he understood caution, but at times he could not resist his burning need for study._

_A glance at Kloi in his study of his own item, whatever it was, told Pretark that he was not the only one with a streak of curiosity._

* * *

"Soooo..." Peter rolled some dice between his palms, "Can I figure out what this thing does or how to use it without killing myself?"

Darcy smacked her lips and pretended to think about it but Peter already knew what she was going to say, "Roll and see what happens."

He should really just start rolling and ask after he knew what he'd rolled, but she might be able to wiggle out of that if he did. He let his dice shake in his hand before he let them fall as they will, "Seventeen!" He very nearly glowed with pride.

"Alright,  that will work!" She seemed pleased to finally be able to reveal something of her plot toys. "You realize it's more or less intended to hold things.  It is capable of storing things, items or living things. It has limits though, it can't go beyond five people or things." She shook a finger at Peter, "And there is a size limit! You can't put a dragon in here, it won't hold anything too much bigger than a horse. It also can't take in a whole building or anything. If what you're putting in it is alive or sentient, they can have five chances to get back out using saving throws that count the same as turns for whatever is in there. If they fail, they are stuck in there till you let them out."

"It is similar to a bag of holding, then?" Thor asked offhandedly, still looking over his sheet and learning about the character he was playing.

"Sort of like it, but not exactly. The stuff inside, once it's missed saving throws, is just stuck in there, suspended animation. They won't age, time won't pass for them, not until they get back out. They will just be frozen in magic time as long as they are in there. If you have time sensitive stuff, it would keep it safe. Like a bomb could go in there and never reach it's exploding time."

Loki snatched up a book and began diligently searching through it.

"Can I pick and chose what I let out or do they all just come out if I try to release something?" Peter eyed her warily, mind clearly working over all the potentials.

"You can pick. However, if you do have something intensely powerful inside, you do run the risk of waking them and giving them a shot to get out again every time you let things out, so you do have to watch for that. Anything non sentient doesn't get saving throws, obviously."

"Where exactly is this item in the handbook? What is it called?" Loki fluffed the pages between his fingers, still searching.

Darcy looked away, up toward the ceiling, as if she found something of interest there, guilt written all over her posture, "Oh... I... forget where it's from."

Loki's eyes snapped up to her, his lips quirking, "Liar, you made this item up! It's not in the handbook at all! It's not an item from D&D that I've ever heard of."

She rolled her eyes, and focused on her papers again, "Fine, it's an original Darcy Lewis item I made up. I do what I want, it's my game. I make the rules."

Peter gasped, slapping the table in over excitement, "It's a Poké Ball! You gave us a Poké Ball!"

Darcy snickered, "Well, I hadn't thought of it that way, but yeah, kind of."

"What is a Poké Ball?" Thor finally fully looked up from his pages.

Loki put on a self-important, all knowing expression to address his brother, "It's from that game they started playing a long while back where they walk around yelling at their devices about their Candies and Stardust, or yelling at random strangers over their imaginary battle for control of Gyms."

Thor's face lit up with understanding, "Oh, yes! I remember that! It was the first time I'd seen Jane voluntarily go outside and leave her lab without being told to! It was also the first time I'd ever seen her nearly tackle someone to attempt to stop them from 'capturing' the Eevee she was intent on gaining."

Darcy gleefully cackled, "I got her hooked on that game on purpose! I figured she needed some sun for a change. I convinced her that she could find a Kangaskhan if she just explored enough!"

Peter looked honestly scandalized, "You almost can't get those anywhere but Australia or New Zealand!" 

"I know!" Darcy winked, "But it got her out of the lab!"

"Poor Jane. Why did she trust you?" Peter asked sadly.

"Why does anyone?" Loki offered.

Darcy waved a dismissive hand, "Alright, alright! We're playing a game here, let's get back to it."

Peter ended up sitting on his knees he was so excited, "I'm calling it a Poké Ball from now on, I don't even care!"

Darcy's lips twitched with her effort not to smile, "Fine, sure."

"I'm going to tell Kloi what our orbs do! We can use these things for so many things!" Peter babbled.

"Kloi doesn't have the same stuff as you," Darcy informed him, "Just so you know."

The look of horror on Peter's face was comical, "He doesn't? Then I didn't tell him."

"Too late!" Darcy sing-songed, "Now the resident Rogue knows what one of your cool things can do!"

Peter let his head fall back onto the chair with a thump while Loki just smirked at him.

"Anyway, you guys are riding," Darcy tugged one of her notebooks into her lap, drawing up her knees to settle it there, "Everyone roll observation."

The entire group jerked instantly to attention and scrambled desperately for their dice, rolling with utter consternation. The dice all clattered loudly against the table top and Thor was the first to let out a dismayed sigh as he announced his roll of seven. Darcy gave him a pat to the shoulder and counted it as nothing more than a touch of bad luck for the first roll. She rolled for Nyilas but did not announce her fourteen in order to not make Thor feel worse. It hardly mattered when Loki offered up his roll of twenty and Peter his own nineteen.

"Well, it makes sense you two would notice, actually. Magic is Pretrak's big thing and Kloi is a Rogue." Darcy told them sagely, clearly for Thor's benefit. "What you notice is nothing. Literally nothing."

Loki and Peter cocked their heads in unison, about to ask for clarification before she continued.

"There were tracks before, now the path it utterly perfect, wiped clean. There aren't any coins on the path, no prints, no crushed grass, no signs of anything. Like someone took a magic eraser and just took it all away. The animals are all gone, no sound at all, like a dead zone." Darcy said.

"Uh oh!" Peter snatched his dice up to his chest as if that might somehow protect his character.

"You notice that even your own sounds are almost too quiet, like it's actively being dampened. The horses were plopping along, but now you don't really hear them. But more than that, you actually feel a very strong tingle of magic all around you, like you just walked smack into the middle of a big spell being cast."

"Oh no!" Peter's eyes were wide.

"Aaaaand, roll one more observation for Pretark." Darcy said sweetly.

Peter complied instantly, "Seventeen!"

Darcy nodded, pursing her lips, "Alright, you do see the wizard aiming for you. Roll to dodge, then everyone roll initiative!" 

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I'm going to put in this fic has been done at some point in a D&D game I've been in or run myself. 
> 
> The identities have been changed to protect the innocent, but this is all real game inspired!


End file.
